Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Urgh… What is this now? Didn’t you ruin his liver just now, your poison should have turned the organ and all around it to sludge already…" the sudden surge of power coming from Jaral Cribler blew Liotra’s hair backward, or rather, his sudden increase in strength had just caused the air to be blasted away from him, as though the winds were giving the living space.

"His life force just increased and nullified my toxin, his injury has also mended itself- Do you hear it?" taking out a finger-like bone with many holes covering its surface, Topi just stuck in into the stump left from her head being ripped off, emitting a soft whistle, which reverberated, spreading far and wide, causing all other nightbirds to make some distance, taking their fights away.

"His heartbeat you mean? It has become awfully loud, it’s like being near a whale" the vulture poised herself as the warking spun and turned his bone blades around, yellow eye casting an incredibly bright shine.

Walking with silent steps toward the two nightbirds, one of which had already suffered extensive damage, whomst he had considered the most annoying of the two, especially as they fought in a duo, the hummingbird was simply too difficult to keep track of, he had not noticed her sneaking behind his back just before, a single mistake had costed him to have a vital organ skewered and be pumped with an incredibly potent poison, thankfully, even then, Jaral Cribler was not at his wit’s end.

As he moved toward the two nightbirds, a rumble could be sensed, at last, the drylurkers trapped underground had managed to force their way out of the cave, pouring out under the dark and chaotic lights of the bird-covered sky, clawing and growling, covered in cuts and gashes from their mad sprint to the outside, their skinny, their lanky and gaunt appearances tainted by red.

Escaping the narrow passageway, they could finally spread out and take the space they needed, surely, the caged monsters were going to go mad and start tearing into all that was within reach, but they did not.

Growing calm and focused after a few seconds, Cribler gazed in their direction, and they stared back.

Howling and growling, the drylurkers returned to their maddened state, rushing into the village, solely focused on the undeads, wholly ignoring all westerners, backing them up in their losing fights, one wave, two wave and then the third wave, all differents groups of drylurkers made their way into the confrontation.

Though none came to assist the king himself, the area stayed clear of any outside influence.

"That’s problematic…" speaking in death tongue, Topi only decided to vocalise this fact once the final step of Jaral’s plan showed up, the bottom-prowler, standing tall, a vaguely humanoid upper half upon a mesh of tendrils and goop, the stalk that served as a head on this grotesque creature flopping around as it too, seemed to have become a protector of the west, its chest splitting open as it tried to bite down on a nearby nightbird.

"Liotra?"

"Go for it"

The hummingbird jumped back and disappeared into a cloud of colourful feathers, reappearing above the bottom-prowler, without a head and only one hand, pushing her needle into the back of the corrupted creature.

Bringing both hooks together, pulling them against one another, the vulture had to face the powered up warking on her own now, unfortunately for Liotra, amongst the nightbirds, only Tilmiel was in possession of Ierpalam, so her own capabilities could hardly be increase, but she had yet to be damaged in any meaningful way.

Kicking off the ground, both of the vulture’s weapons lashed out with barely perceptible differences in timings, without hurry, Jaral Cribler leapt upward, his feet landing upon the air, locking himself upside down just out of his opponents attacks, positioning himself perfectly to swing at her head.

Liotra leaned backward to evade it as she allowed herself to slide, carried by momentum- Strands of her hair that had covered her sockets falling off.

’I absolutely dodged the attack…’ taking a close look at the living’s blades, she quickly understood what was going on, the reach of both swords extended by unseen winds, had she just barely dodged the actual bone weapons, the top of her head would have cut right off.

Cribler now seemed to have even greater control over his air-walk, moving with terrifying precision, his mastery so much finer than before that he did not even need to go any faster than a casual walk to perfectly evade the nightbird, making small adjustments on the fly.

Pointing one blade at the undead, Liotra rapidly moved to the side as the unseen blade of wind extended, Jaral then swiftly switching to his bow, the shots he fired not just carried and favoured by the wind anymore, they were more tightly melded with it, allowing for him to fire projectiles carrying incredible power, soaring straight for their target, grazing the vulture was she unable to fully dodge them even when already running.

Tapping her heel against the other foot, blades emerged, which she threw with kicking motions, the living once again evading everything before suddenly blasted off toward the nightbird, blocking Cribler’s swing, her hooks screaming under the strain, visible being cut through by the wind pressure emitted by the blades.

Attempting to twist his arms into an unfavourable position, Liotra felt one hook breaking sooner than expected, throwing her off as it was Jaral who twisted her arm into a disadvantageous position, simultaneously leveraging one tooth using her tongue, crushing it in between molars and also preparing to step back and disappear into a blast of feathers.

But the former was impossible, deflecting the still intact hook, Jaral Cribler forced the vulture to engage with him in an exchange of blows, slashing off the hand holding the broken hook first, kicking the undead’s side next, and then slicing the other hand.

Instead of stepping back now, Liotra replied with a kick of her own, met with what felt like a stone wall, but it did not matter, the sole of her feet bursted with spikes, digging into the living’s flesh, spinning herself right around, tearing flesh away.

Evading one swing of his sword, the other dismembering the rest of her right arm, the warking being wholly unresponsive to have his stomach twisted into a bloody mess.

Opening her mouth wide, parting the bloody bandages covering the lower portion of the face, spitting a spray of dust directly in the king’s face, immediately, the skin began turning into the same dust.

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It was not quite as potent as that of Prikrip which it was supposed to emulate, and even then, the effect was lesser than it should be, but Jaral was forced to step back, lest he inhale some of that dust.

’How long can you maintain this state, I wonder?’ thinking gleefully, the sharpened senses of the vulture told her that this overwhelming strength was not going to last forever, like an animal slowly wasting away, slowing down under the heat of the sun, soon to collapse in the sand, she vied for the moment he weakened to swoop in.

Jaral remained composed.